


in the quiet of the night

by kate_button



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Fear of Discovery, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, POV Steve Harrington, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:01:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23759539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate_button/pseuds/kate_button
Summary: ‘Want you to fuck me on my bed. Will you?’‘Fuck,’ Steve says, drags his free hand through his hair. ‘Billy, yourdad-’Billy gets this kind of fierce look on his face that Steve usually sees right before Billy’s about to, like, bend him over and beat his ass or twist his arm up behind his back and fuck him stupid or get real pushy and demanding and blow Steve’s mind.‘Iknow,’ Billy gets up off his knees and kisses him. His mouth tastes like sucking dick. It makes Steve’s belly twist. ‘Come on. Fuck me.’
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 20
Kudos: 396





	in the quiet of the night

This is dangerous. Like. Steve has broken open monster skulls with a nail bat and chased them into tunnels only to light them on fire and _that’s_ dangerous but this has got his heart in his fucking throat because there’s no _reason_ for it, no one’s life is on the line, they don’t _have_ to do this.

He’s seen the marks on Billy’s body, marks he didn’t put there. He knows what happens in this house. 

And yet. 

Billy’s got their fingers laced together and he doesn’t have to shush Steve because Steve isn’t making a fucking sound and Neil’s car is in the driveway and Neil himself is asleep in the recliner in the living room, blue light from the tv flickering over his form in the dark. He’s snoring. Steve wants to kill him.

Steve follows Billy’s footsteps exactly. His heart is racing. Billy knows where to put his feet so the floorboards don’t creak. Practiced. Steve is squeezing his hand too tight. It’s terrifying, but it’s thrilling. Neil beats the shit out of Billy for being a queer. If Neil opened his eyes he’d see them. Holding hands. 

Billy stops in the hallway, turns back toward the living room and looks over Steve’s shoulder. Billy kisses him then, puts his hand on his cheek and kisses him right there in the hallway, pulls away and looks at him wide-eyed and breathless and then takes his hand again and grins and leads him the rest of the way to his bedroom. 

Billy closes the door silently, leans back against it and tugs at the belt loops of Steve’s jeans until they’re pressed together.

Steve doesn’t think he was this nervous even the first time Billy touched him. The stakes are immeasurably fucking higher than they’ve ever been. Billy’s door doesn’t have a lock.

His dick is hard about it, though. So is Billy’s. 

Billy slides his hands up under Steve’s shirt, back around his waist and then up his back. Digs his nails in somewhere near Steve’s shoulderblades and rakes them back down. Steve bites his lip and doesn’t make a sound. Billy kisses him and gets his hands on Steve’s ass and grinds their hips together. 

‘Want you in my mouth,’ Billy says so quietly, then bites at Steve’s jaw as he walks them back a couple steps. Steve’s stomach is doing somersaults, and his hands are shaking, and he loves Billy so, so fucking much. 

Billy gets on his knees right there in the middle of his bedroom, undoes Steve’s jeans with sure hands. He’s not shaking like Steve is. He doesn’t pull them down to his thighs like usual, just tugs the front down far enough to get Steve’s dick out.

In case they have to run. The window is open. Billy always tries to leave the window open, at least a little. Just in case.

Steve pulls in a breath when Billy takes him in his mouth, wraps his lips around him and sucks him all the way down in one go. He puts his fingers in Billy’s hair and scratches at Billy’s scalp and bites his lip when it makes Billy hum around him. He feels it more than he hears it, like a tuning fork at the base of his spine. 

Steve is hypervigilant, ears pricked for the slightest sound outside this room. Everyone is home. Neil is in the living room. Max is asleep next door. Susan down the hall. Billy hadn’t had to talk him into it, not _really_. Steve’s willing to do a lot for him, but it did kind of have him stalling out and sputtering when Billy’d leaned over the gear shift and bit at Steve’s earlobe and said _let’s go back to my place_. Steve’s parents are on vacation, a fact him and Billy have been taking full advantage of for the last five days. They could have fucked as loud as they wanted, wherever they wanted. On the kitchen table, for fucks sake. 

Instead they’re here, and Billy’s on his knees, looking up at Steve with his mouth stuffed full of cock. Bobbing on it. Sucking it all sloppy. Looking real turned on. It makes Steve’s dick throb, and Billy’s eyes flutter shut as he tongues at the tip, at the precome that makes the whole affair just a little slicker. 

Steve grips Billy’s hair a little tighter.

When that tingly prickle starts to spread up into his belly, Billy pulls off with a slick sound, licks his swollen lips and looks up. 

‘I want-’ he says, and it’s dark but there’s enough light coming in through the windows for Steve to see the pink on his cheekbones. 

Billy’s… Billy is a lot. He’s a fucking mess, really, most of the time. It’s right there in the open if you know what to look for. Steve knows what to look for, these days. He’s not at all as mysterious or impenetrable or aloof as he likes to pretend he is to people he’s trying to keep at a distance, and Steve knows more about him than most people. Than anyone, maybe. 

Billy acts like a fucking shithead, but Steve knows it’s because he also deals with, like, staggering amounts of pain. Pain that Steve can’t massage out of his muscles with his knuckles and the heels of his hands, pain that he can’t cure with a couple pills on Billy’s tongue and a swig of beer to wash them down. He acts like a shithead because he doesn’t want people to see how badly he’s hurting. He acts like a shithead because his piece of shit father has taught him that all that makes him weak, and weakness is a thing that should be beaten at until it shatters into small enough pieces to sweep under the rug. 

Steve loves Billy so much that he feels all that shit like it’s his own, sometimes. Billy’s given Steve so much, let Steve see him with his walls down, shown him just how _badly_ he wants to be known, even if it scares the holy hell out of him. 

‘Billy-’ Steve starts, and then Billy leans in and sucks his dick all the way down and then pulls off again, just like that, so quick it makes Steve’s head spin and his belly clench.

‘Want you to fuck me.’ 

It makes Steve’s breath catch. ‘Christ.’

Billy gets his hand around Steve’s dick and strokes it a couple times, kisses the head of it, down the side of of the shaft. ‘Want you to fuck me on my bed. Will you?’

‘Fuck,’ Steve says, drags his free hand through his hair. ‘Billy, your _dad_ -’

Billy gets this kind of fierce look on his face that Steve usually sees right before Billy’s about to, like, bend him over and beat his ass or twist his arm up behind his back and fuck him stupid or get real pushy and demanding and blow Steve’s mind.

‘I _know_ ,’ Billy gets up off his knees and kisses him. His mouth tastes like sucking dick. It makes Steve’s belly twist. ‘Come on. Fuck me.’

Steve’s heart is slamming in his chest, and Billy’s hands are on his hips, and Steve can’t say no to him. Can’t, and doesn’t want to. Billy sees the moment he gets on board, and his cheeks dimple when he grins. ‘There he is. Knew there was a reason I keep you around.’

Steve rolls his eyes and gets to work undoing Billy’s jeans. ‘You’re kind of a psychopath, you know.’

‘Whatever, you’re into it.’ He licks a stripe up the side of Steve’s neck, sucks the lobe of his ear into his mouth. Steve’s knees shake.

It’s just that Steve knows for sure that Neil owns guns, knows for sure that he has no qualms at all about tossing his son around like a sack of potatoes and leaving big purple bruises on his cheeks for anyone to see. Most of the evidence is more discrete, hidden in places only Steve sees, under Billy’s shirts, occasionally his pants if Neil’s stripped the belt out of his jeans and made Billy put his hands on the wall recently, but every once in a while Billy turns up with a black eye or a mottled bruise on his jaw. Steve doesn’t think that Neil would kill either of them, really, but he also knows that Neil’s temper is worse than Billy’s and Billy’s knocked him out fucking _cold_ , so. 

He puts his hands on Billy’s cheeks and kisses him, kisses him and kisses him and slides one hand back into his hair and kisses him some more. Billy moans and licks into his mouth and Steve feels it in his gut, feels it even more when Billy melts into him, wraps an arm around his waist and presses their fronts together and kinda lets himself be kissed. Billy’s usually so bossy. Assertive. 

So Billy might be a little bit crazy. Like, this is wildly fucking stupid and dangerous and kinda fucked up but, like, Steve also kinda gets it. He gets why Billy wants this, the sick shit he feels about himself because Neil tells him to and the way he’s always gotta be so intentional about his attempts to unlearn it. 

Billy’s, like, reclaiming something. This is therapy for him. This is revenge for every time Neil called him a faggot and a pansy and a queer; getting fucked in the ass by the boyfriend Neil would kill him if he knew he had, under Neil’s roof, while Neil himself is snoring away close enough that they can hear it through the closed door. Steve gets it.

He pulls back enough to look at Billy, lets himself be struck dumb by how fucking beautiful he is for just a second. Billy sees it, sees him like he always does, and rolls his eyes about it. 

‘Quit,’ Billy says, but doesn’t pull away. Steve pushes his hands back deeper into Billy’s hair and kisses him again. 

‘Can’t.’

Billy rolls his eyes. ‘You’re a sentimental piece of shit.’

‘Sentimental piece of shit that’s about to fuck you stupid.’

Billy’s grip on him tightens a little, presses them tighter together. ‘That a promise?’

Steve walks them back toward the bed, little thrill in his blood at having Billy off balance. ‘You gonna be able to shut the fuck up? Your ass is good but it’s not worth dying over.’

‘Ex-fucking-scuse you,’ Billy says, and Steve shoves him backwards onto the bed, ‘it is too.’

Steve crawls on the bed after him, crawls up and brackets Billy in and pushes him down and kisses him again. ‘You didn’t answer my question,’ Steve tugs Billy’s pants down over his hips, and Billy lifts up helpfully to make it easier, ‘you gonna be quiet?’

‘Whatcha gonna do if I’m not?’

‘Flip over,’ Steve says, and scoots back a little to give Billy room to maneuver over onto his belly.

‘Well?’ Billy asks, looking back over his shoulder.

‘ _Well_ ,’ Steve says, and crawls back up Billy body, pressing kisses on his way. Billy raises his eyebrows, and Steve pushes two fingers past his lips, dick kicking between them at the way Billy moans around them, the way his eyes slip shut, the way he _sucks_.

He takes his fingers back and tugs Billy up onto his knees and kisses him right at his tailbone as he pushes one finger in. Billy’s so fucking tight. It’s not like he never bottoms, because he does, loves a good dicking if he’s in the mood for it, but Steve’s in the mood for it more. Billy gets a little overwhelmed sometimes when he gets fucked. Isn’t always in the right headspace for it. 

Billy spreads his knees a little wider, lets his belly drop, tips his ass up. Steve presses sloppy kisses to his cheeks as he fucks his finger in and out, sucks a mouthful of flesh past his teeth and bites down as he pulls out and comes back with two. Billy gasps quietly, rocks back into it when Steve eases off and licks over the mark he left, working his fingers in and out. Billy’s tight but he’s practiced, so soft on the inside, hot and slick. 

‘That’s enough,’ Billy says, rough and so, so quiet. He slides his hand up into his pillowcase and then reaches back, little bottle of lube in hand. 

Billy makes a noise when Steve pushes in, quiet half-choked little whimper, hands in fists in the sheets. He’s tight, so tight and so hot and Steve loves him so fucking much, kisses Billy’s tense shoulders and sinks in until they’re pressed together. 

‘Christ,’ Billy breathes, head hanging. He rolls his hips, and Steve pulls out a little and slides back in, gets another little noise out of Billy.

‘You gotta be quiet,’ Steve whispers. 

‘I fucking am being quiet,’ Billy snaps, ‘fuck me already.’

And Steve wants to, wants to hold Billy’s hips and fuck him til he screams, til the bed bangs against the wall, wants to fuck him so good it wakes up the whole neighborhood. Neil could wake up at any moment, could throw the door open and see him balls deep in Billy’s ass and there’s no telling what would happen but the possibility makes everything so much hotter, so much more terrifying, so much realer and more intense and Steve feels like he can hear every breath Billy takes, feel every twitch and clench. He wants to push Billy down and fuck him good and hard and deep just how he likes but he can’t because Billy’s fucking asshole father is still snoring in the livingroom, so he fucks him slow instead, slow and quiet and deliciously frustrating and christ, he loves Billy so _fucking much._

‘Harder.’

‘I fuck you any harder and you’re gonna wake this whole house up,’ Steve says, but snaps his hips anyway. The resulting smack of skin sounds loud as hell in the quiet, and Billy’s breath catches.

‘Again,’ Billy says, and it’s stupid, it’s so stupid and so dangerous and so _hot_ so he does, and then again and Billy makes these noises that have heat twisting Steve’s gut and his fingers digging into Billy’s hips and it’s stupid but Steve keeps fucking him like that anyway, too hard, real close to real dangerous and Billy shoves his hips back and meet him. It’s so loud and Steve’s getting too caught up, careless, but Billy’s shoving a hand under himself and then he’s gasping and fluttering around Steve and then Steve’s the one having to bite back all the shit he wants to say, noise he wants to make. 

He drapes himself over Billy’s back, wraps his arms around his waist and tucks one hand up his shirt to rub at his nipple, kisses the side of his neck and Billy says ‘oh my god, _Steve_ ,’ and then there’s a creak from the living room, and Steve realizes he can’t hear snoring, and his blood goes ice cold and Billy goes dead still and Steve’s heart pounds so hard it hurts. 

‘Fuck,’ he breathes, not even a whisper.

He tries to pull out. Billy stops him, reaches back and grabs his thigh.

‘Wait,’ Billy whispers, and rocks back, ‘he won’t come in.’

‘You don’t know that,’ Steve says, hot-cold fear and arousal washing over him in waves. Billy’s still rocking under him, just these tiny maddening movements, ‘ _Billy_.’

Another floorboard creaks in the living room, and Billy takes his hand off Steve’s leg and shoves it up his shirt to hold Steve’s instead. ‘Don’t be a pussy.’

Steve flushes hot. He’s tingling with adrenaline and fear and his dick is still absolutely aching, completely undeterred by the footsteps getting closer to Billy’s door. Steve buries his face in the back of Billy’s neck and moves, so slow it hurts. Billy squeezes his hand, and that hurts a little too. 

The footsteps pause outside the door, and neither of them breathes. Steve keeps his face buried in Billy’s hair, perception of the passage of time totally blown. It’s probably seconds, but it goes on forever. Steve doesn’t breathe. Can’t breathe. Billy squeezes his hand, rubs at it with his thumb.

Eventually the footsteps continue on, floorboards creaking until a door opens and closes at the end of the hallway.

‘Oh christ,’ Billy breathes, and sags under him, burying his face in the sheets, panting.

‘You asshole,’ Steve whispers, and fucks into Billy as meanly as he can manage, ‘you _asshole_.’

Billy chokes on a noise and Steve wraps his free hand around Billy’s dick. ‘Oh _god_ ,’ Billy says, and Steve jerks him off, grinds into him, relieved and still utterly terrified, heart racing, buzzing with adrenaline. ‘Steve, god.’

Billy comes pretty quick, and Steve’s not far behind, shocky adrenaline and the need to flee still making him tingly, still making his ears ring. 

It’s fucking good though. Billy’s dad is just down the hall. Billy’s dad was like ten feet away while Steve was _in_ him. 

Billy collapses down on the bed, panting, and Steve goes with him, rolls off to the side. 

‘You fucking _asshole_ ,’ he says, panic starting to give way to exhilaration. He’s smiling. His heart is racing. Billy flops over onto his back, grabs Steve’s hand and kisses the back of it.

‘That was great.’

‘That was terrifying.’

Billy looks over at him and Steve falls in love all over again, in love with his flushed cheeks and his the little crinkles at the corners of his eyes and the way his mouth is turned up at the corners just a _little_ , not a smile, really, just contentment that Steve put there and maybe victory and maybe _peace_ and Steve loves him, just loves him so fucking much. 

‘You know, I think I might be in love with you,’ Billy says, low and matter-of-fact, and it takes Steve’s breath away. They don’t say it. He thinks they both know it but they don’t _say it_ and here Billy is, pants around his thighs in his bedroom with his dad asleep down the hall and Steve’s come in his ass and he’s saying it, looking Steve in the eye and holding his hand and giving him this like it’s not a big deal, like it’s not _huge_.

‘Yeah,’ Steve says, because his heart is still racing and his blood is still singing and his mind is still spinning and Billy’s gonna kill him and he’s gonna say thank you when he does. 

Billy looks at him for a long moment, and Steve lets him. Billy doesn’t think anyone’s ever gonna stick around, doesn’t think anyone’s gonna want him after he shows them a new piece of himself. He does it like this every time, aggressive about it, combative, defensive because he has to have that to fall back on if it goes sideways, if he gets left again. Steve’s not going anywhere. Steve thinks that he’d handle anything Billy asked him to if it meant he got to keep this, if it meant Billy kept letting him see the pieces he keeps close to his chest, the pieces he keeps to himself. 

Finally, Billy seems to deem him fit, smile growing wide and easy. ‘We should get up.’

‘Yep,’ Steve says, and stays exactly where he is. The sweat is beginning to cool, and his heart is finally starting to slow.

Billy rolls his eyes, grinning, and pushes himself up to his feet, hikes his jeans back up over his hips. ‘You can stay here if you want, but I’m going to your place.’

‘Ugh.’ 

‘Come on. Wanna fuck you in your parents bed.’

Steve’s neck goes hot. Billy offers him his hand. ‘That’s fucked up.’

Billy raises his eyebrows. Steve takes his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> [ya girl's on tumblr](https://un-buttoned.tumblr.com/)


End file.
